


Mrs. Potter

by mothermalfoy (slytherinxravenclaw)



Series: Assorted Tumblr Drabbles [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Implied Torture, Murder, Smut, Trans! Draco, implied kilings, killer Draco, nothing graphic though
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-18
Updated: 2019-01-18
Packaged: 2019-10-01 20:46:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17251133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slytherinxravenclaw/pseuds/mothermalfoy
Summary: Aurora Potter, the beautiful wife of Harry Potter, no one knows much about her, or where she came from, the only thing they know is that she has a penchant for bringing goodies into the Ministry for Harry, and he always has a smile on his face when she's around. But there's something about her that feels familiar to some in the Ministry. As if they know her. Or knew her once.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, this was just meant to be a cute little smutty follow up but my brain decided to make it angst with kind of a cliffhanger so... there’s that. Also a warning for transphobia and deadnaming. Why did I do this? I'm not sure tbh.  
> Trans Draco  
> Smut  
> Angst  
> Happy ending  
> semi-cliffhanger?

Heads turn as I enter the Ministry, it isn’t the first time people have stared as I entered but I know it’s not because I  _was_ a death eater. It’s because I’m fucking gorgeous. This might sound vain, but believe me, I’m aware of how I look. Currently, in a tight black mini dress, my perfect blonde hair in a high ponytail, carrying a black Birkin bag in one hand and a white picnic basket in the other, my heels echoing in the marble lobby. They could also be staring because I’m married to the Head Auror and savior of the Wizarding World Harry Potter, but I like to think it’s because I’m so damn gorgeous. Harry tends to think so too, and so naturally, he’s incredibly jealous in a way that makes me far more turned on than it should. As I make my way into the lift, several men from other departments excuse themselves, “Sorry Mrs. Potter,” they say. I can’t help but smile. Being married to Harry gives me a certain amount of fear and awe. Half the men and women in the building are jealous of me,  _me a Malfoy no less,_ while the other half live in utter fear of me.

The Aurors are a totally different story. I’m not sure when it first happened, but it’s become a thing now that whoever I enter, the entire department as a whole whistles at me, Aurors stare, both men and women and more often than not I get to overhear how jealous his fellow coworkers are of him because of how often I come down to his work to bring him something special.

If only they knew.

I try to bring him lunch, or some sort of treat. I’ve taught myself how to make treacle tart because I know it’s his favorite and honestly I don’t know why I even bother to pack it because no sooner have I snuck into his office than he has me pinned to his desk, lifting my leg over his shoulder, as he drags my knickers down around my ankles. Another pair I’ll no doubt lose to his growing office pile.

“H-Harry,” I moan. Not even three minutes in the office and I’m already dripping wet for him, and he’s already got his face between my thighs.  _Salazar, I’m addicted to that tongue._ I’m not even sure how Harry’s human with this ability. He almost never comes up for air, and once his face is buried between my legs nothing short of a bomb going off in his office will make him stop. It’s agony and ecstasy what his tongue does to me. My head is dangling off the desk, and my heel is digging into his back, as my body is wracked with shudders. I’ve come more often than not from Harry’s tongue alone and I know he won’t stop until I’m a writhing mess, begging him to fuck me properly before I go. “Oh gods, Harry, yes,” I moan, my fingers clenched in his hair as he devours me. I only vaguely hear the door open, and from my upside down vantage I can only vaguely make out a blushing face at the door.

Harry stops, clearly perturbed. “Get out!” he growls in his gruffest Auror voice that makes my legs tremble, and never fails to make me impossibly wetter. The door shuts and Harry goes back to devouring me as if nothing happened. My legs tremble, I’m not even sure how long it has been but with Harry, it is always both a blissful eternity and not long enough. My fingers fist in his raven locks again, as he tongue fucks me into utter incoherence.

“Harry,” I whine. “Oh, gods, please. Need you so bad.” Harry grins and hums making no move to fuck me properly. I’m so close then and his searching tongue drives me over the edge until I’m screaming his name and coming and my legs are trembling and Harry just licks and sucks his way through it. When at last he pulls away for a brief moment my entire body is trembling and its several minutes before I can even consider standing. Harry merely grins at his handiwork.

“Gods you’re beautiful,” he says. Eventually, I get to my feet and pull down my dress, I don’t even bother with my knickers anymore. Before I leave I lean down to kiss him on the lips.

“Potter,” I say.

“Malfoy,” he growls back. I laugh as I turn on my heel and leave his office. My legs still feel impossibly shaky and I feel so messy and dirty and yet, I love it. On my way out I notice Ron staring at me blushing and I can’t help but laugh.


	2. Mrs. Potter 2

“Mr. Potter, your wife is here to see you,” I hear Harry’s secretary tell him. It never fails to make me smile hearing those words,  _your wife._ Harry smiles too. I don’t even have to see him to know. Being Head Auror has its perks after all, and my being in his office on a nearly constant basis is definitely one of them. I don’t even bother with the picnic basket this time around. Everyone knows what’s going to happen, it’s become so frequent, and Harry rarely bothers with a silencing charm. I think he secretly likes having his Auror’s know what he’s doing to me, spreading me out on the desk, devouring me like some sort of feast. It sends a shiver up my spine. The secretary, I think her name is Mary or something equally dull, smiles at me and gestures me inside. She’s his third in six months. I can’t imagine why none of them stay. Except that I can. I did the job for six weeks while Harry was in between secretaries.

Harry was far too distracted to get much done, and I suppose my mini-skirts didn’t help that. Nor did it help that I conveniently forgot to wear knickers every day, so anytime I bent over he got a clear view of… everything. Just the thought of him seeing me like that makes me wet. The thought of the way his hungry eyes devoured me, it’s all I can do not to run in there and drop to my knees. Only I’ve actually got a purpose for being at his office today. More than sex. I don’t doubt it’ll happen, of course, only that isn’t technically why I’m here. It’s a personal favor to my mother that brought me to the Ministry at 10AM on a Tuesday.

“Come,” Harry says, his voice as gruff as always, and I nearly do. Gliding forward and into his office, I shut the door behind me and stare at my husband, he looks annoyed and I get the feeling he already know’s why I’m there.

“Your father’s parole hearing, right?” Harry asks. I take a seat in front of his desk.

“Mother wanted me to talk to you about it.”

“Darling, it’s unethical…”

“Ethical hell! You know as well as I do he doesn’t  _deserve_ parole. What do you think will become of my mother if he gets out?” I don’t mean to be shrill but even after all this time, the man terrifies me. I know Harry won’t let anything happen to me but all the same. My father doesn’t know.  _Can’t_ know, about my transition.  _The sole heir of the Malfoy family a woman?!_ I could practically hear his shrieks. Harry managed to keep it out of the press, and even his co-workers only know me as Mrs. Harry Potter. Harry takes my hand and it’s only then I realize I’m trembling. I hate that he still has this effect on me. I finally started to feel free and now… my father is eligible for parole from Azkaban for good behavior and the thought terrifies me.

“Come here love,” he says, his voice is gentle now. I stand up without even thinking about it and move to the other side of the table. He wraps his arms around my waist and lays his head on my stomach. Just being in his presence comforts me more than he knows. “It’s going to be okay,” he promises. He can’t promise that and yet… I have to believe him. Because he’s Harry Potter, and he’s always protected me. I card my fingers through his hair, it’s softer than my younger self would have given it credit for, and I love how messy it is now. Harry sighs softly, not moving from his spot on my waist.

“I’m sorry I didn’t bring lunch this time,” I whisper, scratching his scalp with my emerald green acrylic claws. Harry purrs.

“No matter, I’d match rather eat you instead,” I shiver as he says the words, he lifts me easily onto the desk and my legs spread of their own volition. It would terrify me how easily my body bends to Harry’s will, but I don’t even have time to properly have the thought, for in an instant his lips are on my throat and all thought is gone from my mind. He fumbles with the buttons on my silk blouse, and I’m tempted to tell him to rip it off me, but it’s Prada so I don’t. Harry is meticulously gentle at times that would be surprising to anyone who saw him as the gruff Head Auror. I love that side of him, but sometimes, that gentle side gets me just as much.

Harry kisses down my throat, toward my collarbone, and over my breasts, his tongue and lips dancing against my flesh, determined to drive me mad. I gasp, leaning back against the desk, Harry chases me the whole way, his lips never leaving my skin. Hot tongue laving at my nipples. The shirt slides off my shoulders and Harry kisses down my stomach, then hikes up my skirt.

“No knickers today? Good girl,” he teases and nips at the inside of my thigh. I hiss at the sensation, his lips so close to where I want them to be. So close to where I suddenly need him so desperately, I’m so wet, and my body hums with desire. I  _need_ him now. Any part of him I can get. As if sensing this, Harry’s tongue teases over my navel, and his fingertips ghost over my thighs. I writhe on the desk,  _I will not beg,_ I tell myself, knowing it’s a lie.  _I’m still a Malfoy dammit. I will. Not. Beg._ Everything in my body, however, cries out for me to beg Harry for more.  _Please,_ I think, as if shouting it in my mind will help. He’s a legillimens and a great one, but Harry will purposely ignore my thoughts if it means teasing me more. He  _loves_ to hear me say it. Out loud. To see me beg. It goes against my pride and I want to fight it, but his fingertips trail their way up my thigh, so close, and I’ve been wet since I walked in, and the teasing of his fingertips on my flesh makes me want to scream.

“Please Harry!” I all but yell finally, I can’t take it anymore. I’m clawing at the desk beneath me, desperate for something anything. Harry grins above me, a feral, dangerous grin that only makes my body throb. His fingers ghost higher and finally, blessedly, they slide into me. I gasp at the sensation, it feels so good, so deliciously perfect, and even though it’s two it’s not nearly enough. I wrap my legs around his waist forcing his fingers into me deeper. We both groan in pleasure. It’s ecstasy and agony in equal measure, his fingers tease me, sliding in and out, and I’m so desperate for more that I consider begging again. “H-Harry,” I gasp.

Harry growls, leaning forward and sucks on my neck again. His fingers slide out of me and I whine at the loss, but before I can get too used to it, I feel him fumble beneath me. He unzips his pants and out springs his hard, thick cock. I shudder, and he slides it into me so easily. It feels heavenly. I scream in pleasure, and Harry covers my mouth with his hand, still wet from where it had been inside me moments earlier. I should be disgusted and yet somehow I’m even more turned on, Harry trying to quiet me as he fucks me on his desk, pounding away, sucking bruises into my throat as he whispers filth in my ear.

“Such a beautiful girl, aren’t you baby? Taking my cock so good. Mmm. You like it, baby?” I nod, moaning around his hand and Harry smiles, kissing the side of my head, pounding harder. I scream behind his hand, shuddering, I can feel the climax building within me, as I babble Harry’s name over and over again. I’m so close, so unbelievably close and then he says it. The words that never fail to make me come. “Come for me princess,” shudders wrack through my body as I do as I’m told. It’s brilliant, and all I can do is arch off the desk into his hard body as it hovers over mind, panting in the aftershocks of a tremendous orgasm.

My brain is goo and I barely have the energy to think much beyond a  _thank you._

“You’re welcome,” he says and I know he’s read my thoughts that time. I laugh a little to myself. Harry casts a Scorgify on us both and I’m grateful to no longer be sweaty. My legs are trembling and the thought of even attempting to stand makes my whole body protest. Harry smiles, and gets to his feet, he kisses my lips softly.

“Take all the time you need love, I, however, have to get some work done,” he’s already tucked away in his pants and he looks stunningly put together. I envy him that. I nod, still rather boneless, as I stare up at his ceiling. Harry walks to the door and slips out, and I wonder if anyone can see me, half-naked lying on Harry’s desk, disheveled, my long platinum blond hair hanging off the desk, as I pant to catch my breath. Eventually, I manage to sit up, slowly, fixing my blouse, my fingers tremble slightly, pulling down my skirt, as I stand to my feet, and adjust myself properly and prepare to make my exit. I manage to take two steps before my legs buckle and I nearly fall.  _Damn._ I didn’t think it was that rough, and yet here I am, literally weak at the knees thanks to Harry. With some amount of effort, I recover and walk promptly back out of the Ministry’s office. I manage to smile at his secretary and I can’t help but wonder if she’ll last. Slipping out of the DMLE I make my way toward the lifts, I half expect to run into someone on my way down but somehow I never do. Often, Ministry workers will run out of any lift I walk into, apparently for fear Harry might hex them or something. I chuckle to myself at the thought and enter the lift. It takes me down to the ground floor where I step off and make my way toward the floo.

On the other side of the floo my mother is babysitting Scorpius, or she’s meant to be. Only I realize all too quickly that something’s wrong, and then I see it, a masked Death Eater sitting on my sofa, holding my son, petting his hair. My mother unconscious at his feet.

“Mrs. Potter, or should I say… Draco Malfoy,” the Death Eater growls. I cringe at the name. “Your father will be most displeased,” I know that voice, but the panic in my mind makes it hard for me to place it.

“What do you want?” I demand.

“First, drop the glamor. I want to see you as you are,” he growled.

“It’s not a glamor. This  _is_ me now,” I say, trying to sound braver then I felt. The man laughs, and it’s then I remember, Rodolphus. Before I can do anything, he has me bound, and on my knees. Scorpius cries, and I’m angrier than I’ve ever been in my life. “Let him go!” I growl.

“Drop the glamor!” Rodolphus growls back.

“It’s not…”

“Revelio,” the man hisses. I feel a tingle of magic wash over me but save for the makeup I’d been wearing earlier that day, nothing changes. I can see the moment he realizes it’s not simply some attempt to hide from my past. That it’s real. He clucks his tongue at me, and it’s all I can do not to lash out. Harry’s taught me a considerable amount of defensive magic, even  _wandless_ magic, but all I can think is protect Scorpius. At that moment Scorpius wails, and I use the distraction to break free of my binding, I stand up fast and before the man can do anything more, I pull my wand out. Rodolphus slams up against the wall, held back by my magic. I renervate my mother.

“Take Scorpius and get out of the house, now!” I bark. Mother looks up at me, frightened, but does as she’s told. I can tell she wants to apologize but there’s no time. She picks up Scorpius and runs, they’re gone by the time Rodolophus is able to push back my spell. He lashes out, throwing hexes at me, flashes of green light. I defend it as best I can. “You shouldn’t have come after the wife of an auror,” I yell. “Did you really think my husband wouldn’t teach me defense?” Rodolphus growls, trying to catch me off guard.

“Your precious husband won’t be able to protect you for long. Lucius will be out soon and then what will you do?” He’s trying to rattle me, and it would work, but the fact that he laid a hand on my son keeps my fury strong. I throw several fast hexes at him. He barely holds them back. One slash of his wand and my wand flies out of my hand, he laughs, looking triumphant and I raise an eyebrow. Raising my hands, the mahogany coffee table raises from the ground, and with a little push of magic, slams into him, knocking him against the wall, unconscious. I bind his hands quickly and call for the Aurors. Harry’s there by my side in a flash, and I can’t help but curl up against his chest as the better half of the DMLE descend upon us taking Rodolphus out.

Harry whispers to me, “You did beautifully baby,” and I’m comforted by his words and yet, the realization that a Death Eater got into our home. Past our wards, terrifies me to no end. Harry promises to make them stronger, that he’ll do everything to keep Lucius in Azkaban, but more than anything I want to see Scorpius now. Harry sends his patronus to the safe house where mother would likely be. Seconds later, mother appears beside us, and I grab Scorpius, holding him tight to my chest, willing myself not to sob. Though it had all happened so fast it had felt eternal. Scorpius curls up in my arms.

“Scared mommy,” he said. I whisper to him, trying to comfort him. Harry takes the rest of the day off, and we lay with Scorpius in our bed, Harry and I crying a little, as the baby slept between us. Harry kisses my lips softly, apologizing profusely. He hates the thought that his job had endangered me. That his being Harry Potter had endangered his family, but this wasn’t him, and we both knew it. Holding tight to him, I close my eyes, as he runs his fingers through my hair, promising everything would be okay. I need to believe him, but I can’t help but wonder,  _had my father orchestrated this?_


	3. Mrs. Potter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mrs. Potter has a plan, to take out the Death Eaters who destroyed her life.   
> Trans! Draco

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, when I started this I had no idea what this was going to turn into but somewhere writing chapter two I came up with this idea and I think this is going to be the end. This is a wild one so get ready. Also warning for vaguely graphic depictions of violence. Not against D so no worries.

Two weeks later and I was still shaken, the Aurors had connected my father to Rodolphus’s kidnap attempt, for that had been what he had intended on doing, kidnapping me and Scorpius, and his parole had been denied. Thank Salazar. Still, the nightmares I had thought I’d gotten over had become more frequent and I found myself sleeping in the rocking chair in the nursery more often than not.

Harry was worried, I could tell he was, every time he came to collect me from the nursery he had this look on his face, I don’t say anything. I don’t want him to worry further. He’s taken off too much work as it is, worrying about me. I’m okay, I know I am, and so is Scorpius. Still, knowing my father still had enough power, even in prison to send a Death Eater after me, disturbs me to my core.

Actual Death Eaters are rare these days, but neo-Death Eaters and their sympathizers are far more rampant. As is the rise of the New Grindelwald Society, just as concerning though the demographic was slightly older. The DMLE was flooded with it constantly, and all I could do was hope and pray they would never find us.

Harry does his best to distract me when he’s home, teasing touches and tender kisses, but the anger I feel makes it hard to think properly, I’m a Slytherin at heart, so its no wonder I want revenge.

The plan begins to formulate before I’m even cognizant of it.

Its remarkably easy to kill someone in Azkaban, especially when that someone is your father and you’ve asked to visit. The Auror’s don’t seem to care much to see what you’re up to, and they don’t even bother to check any kind of identification, so when you sign in, simply using a fake name is enough to appease them. No one bats an eye that Lily Evans signed herself in to visit Lucius Malfoy. They don’t even confiscate my wand and I wonder if they hope for this. A notice-me-not charm allows me to slip into my father’s cell, Avada Kedavra is too easy, and obvious. Acromantula venom, however, is a far more delicious punishment. 

I’m not sure what’s come over me, this burning desire, but I do know that watching the light drain from the eyes of Lucius Malfoy and Rodolphus Lestrange is the first time I feel truly free.

Leaving Azkaban I tell myself it won’t happen again.

It was a one-time thing.

I’m not  _that_ person. I just…  _needed_ to do this.

Father would have killed me.

Rodolphus too.

I’m not sure what it says, but I’m wetter than I’ve ever been in my life, I floo to the Ministry, and all but run through the corridor, towards Harry’s office. I don’t wait for his secretary to let me in, nor do I wait to see if he’s alone. He is.

“Hi honey, this is a lovely surprise,” I throw up a silencing spell and reach under my dress pulling off my knickers, depositing them on his desk and crawl into his lap. “What’s gotten into you?” Harry asks. I’ve never been this forward, in all of our years of marriage. I push aside the thought of what it means that killing my father has me so turned on. I push aside the voice in my head that says I want to do it again.  _Need to do it again._ To find every last Death Eater left whoever tried to hurt me or my family and kill them all, slowly, painfully.

“Please Harry, need you so bad,” I beg. Harry looks at me strangely. It’s not unusual for me to be needy, especially in bed, Harry knows me better than almost anyone, know’s how to work me up, still, I know this is different.

“Honey you know I’m always happy to fuck you but it’s ten in the morning, I still have two hours before,” but I don’t let him finish, instead taking his hand and dragging it towards me. Two fingers slip inside me and Harry moans. “Gods your dripping baby.” Harry fingers me slowly, it’s torturous and I just want his cock,  _now._ But I need to be patient, I’ve already acted strangely enough and if I continue to act suspiciously he might know something is up, and I can’t have that.  _Harry can never know what I’ve done. What I’m doing._

“Fuck me, please,” I beg. “I need it, tie me up and fuck me,” I growl in his ear. Harry’s eyes widen, but he pulls out his wand and casts an incarcerous and I can’t help but writhe as he pushes me back on his desk. His pupils are blown and I know he doesn’t suspect anything. I moan as he spreads my legs, and unzips his pants, I’m so wet and my body is thrumming with excitement and all I want his him inside me. Brutal, punishing, the way only the Savior can take me apart and put me back together. Can set to rights the wrong I know I’m doing. My salvation, and I know, one day my downfall. The second his cock penetrates me, I scream. Harry growls, pounding into me, hard and fast. I wrap my legs around his waist as he whispers in my ear. Still so gentle despite the hard thrusts driving me closer and closer to the edge.

And then, before I know what’s happening I’m coming, harder and more intensely than I ever have before. My body shakes and my world collapses and builds back up, everything feels right, perfect, I know I’m where I belong, beneath the man I love. I pull him down for another kiss, then sit up and hop off his desk, leaving my knickers behind. Harry smirks, and I can feel his eyes watching my arse as I sashay out of the room.

For several weeks I hold the bloodlust at bay. Harry looked so heartbroken when he came home to tell me my father had died in Azkaban and I’d almost felt sorry for him. He looked like he was telling me something heartbreaking as if it hadn’t come at my own hand. I decided I needed to be more careful, that the next one I killed had to be less close to me. Faking sadness was hard, I was never good at faking emotion with Harry. 

_Greyback._

It was an obvious choice though not without problems. Acromantula venom was not really a thing for werewolves to concern themselves with. At worst it would mildly annoy him, at best he’d get sick for a few days. I wanted revenge. Torturous revenge. For what he’d done to people I now loved.

The werewolf is surprisingly easy to find, even after all this time he’s hidden his tracks poorly, fortunately for me. Luring him out of his hole is considerably more difficult. I consider using a child as bait, then realize that would make me a monster too, no better than Dumbledore, so instead, I use myself as bait, along with a bit of omega pheromone I managed to steal from an apothecary. The moment Greyback sees me I know there’s a conflict there.

“You?” he growls. “The omega?” he laughs. “If only Lucius knew,” he said. I grin, he stalks closer, just close enough to fall into my trap. I flick my wand and he’s ensnared in silver chains. He screams in agony as he’s covered by the silver net and I can’t help but grin.

“I’m not the girl you thought I was,” I say. Greyback snorts, and I can tell he’s trying not to show his pain. He’s not an alpha though he pretends to be, I grin, and point my wand at him, whispering the spell that nearly killed me so many years ago. “Sectumsempra,” I hiss. The effect is immediate, the cuts start quickly, and the silver burns it’s way deeper into his skin, he screams, howling in pain. The silver eats through his flesh and in a matter of moments his screaming stops as he falls apart, completely eviscerated by the silver and curse. I smirk, the smell of blood alerts the other wolves, and I vanish just as they appear, they’ll eat his remains. No one will ever find him.

By the third Death Eater, it begins to make the news. The Auror’s think there’s a pattern and Harry is suddenly panicked that I could be next. I want to assure him that I won’t, that nothing will ever happen to me. I’ve been so careful. Even my own husband, the Head Auror of the Ministry of Magic doesn’t suspect.

Harry isn’t stupid if nothing happens to me at all he  _will_  suspect. I’m tempted to fake something just to cover my tracks. But I know Harry, he’ll watch me like a hawk if that happens. I just have to tone it down. There’s no stopping me once I’ve started. It only stops if the DMLE captures me. And that will never happen.

* * *

The Manor becomes my unofficial headquarters, no longer content to kill in the wild, I’ve begun taking them home, to  _really_ drive home the point. I’m careful as ever, especially now that they’re coming to the Manor, it’s constantly under Ministry surveillance. At any moment my cover can be blown, at any moment anyone can find me. Harry can find me.

Perhaps that’s where I mess up. Knowing Harry can find me, can stop me, and subconsciously I want to be stopped, don’t I?

I’m just washing my hands when I feel the wards shudder,  _someone’s here._ There’s nothing to find, and yet, as I leave the bathroom I still feel a tingle of nerves. I walk down the corridor and nearly leap when I run into him. Harry wearing his official Auror uniform, giving me a stern look.

“I knew I’d find you here,” he says.

I sigh, “How long have you known?” I ask. I know if he takes me in I’ll happily go to Azkaban. I won’t fight him, not ever again. That was an unspoken part of my wedding vows, my promise to myself in my eighth year after I started my transition. I would never fight Harry again. I would let him kill me first if that’s what it came to. I would never lift my wand against him again.

“I knew the moment I heard about your father,” he says. I eye him, not sure I believe it and he smirks. “I’m not here to stop you, darling,” he says. “But you need to be more careful. The Manor isn’t going to be safe,” he says. I’m not even sure I believe it, but then he tells me to come home, that I can do my work there, and I can’t help but love him for it. Wrapping my arms around his shoulders, I climb into his arms, he fucks me hard against the wall. It’s glorious ecstasy, we kiss and fuck, and I know that he would never turn me in. 

**The end.**


	4. Mrs. Potter 4 | Gala

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Aurora attend a Ministry gala, Harry can't help but pull his beautiful wife into an alcove and fuck her senseless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't anticipate continuing this story but the idea for this bugged me in the middle of the night so here we are.

Walking into a Ministry Gala on Harry’s arm never fails to bring a smile to my face. I have always, for better or worse, been a party girl. As a Malfoy, I was raised to always be the perfect hostess whenever throwing a party and the prized guest whenever attending. As a Potter, I’m there to make Harry look good. To be entertaining, and witty, and charming. Harry  _hates_ galas, balls, and any sort of official Ministry function that requires him to get dressed up and schmooze. So I make a concerted effort to make his time there exciting. Enjoyable. It starts with the dress, long and emerald, with a slit up the side that teases just enough leg to keep his attention whenever he grows bored. I also chose a white faux fur coat that hangs off my pale shoulders, emphasizing them, it’s a statement piece, as so many in my closet are.

I can feel Harry’s eyes upon me as I stand, speaking with a member of the Wizengamot, an exhausting old man who’s terribly boring, but who I’ve managed to wrap around my little finger with little more than a casual smile, and a little giggle at his awful jokes. I sip just a little bit of my champagne, as the man continues, there’s a faint crackle of magic that’s unmistakably Harry’s and it’s all I can do not to shiver. I’ve never been particularly strong when it comes to his displays of wandless magic. It never fails to make my legs tremble with need. Such raw power. I suppose chasing power is another Malfoy trait I can’t seem to shake. Of course, Harry is powerful regardless of his magic. He just exudes sheer power, in his body language and his every muscle. I’ve developed something of a fetish for being manhandled by him, though looking back at our fights it occurs to me perhaps this was always true. How often did I end up beneath him in our Hogwarts days? I’m pretty sure more often than I was victorious. Was that subconscious?

In the blink of an eye, he’s beside me, the heat of his body makes my legs tremble, “Excuse me, can I borrow my wife for a moment?” he says. It isn’t  _really_ a question, and no one would dare argue with the boy-who-lived, and yet, he at least pretends as though the man has a choice. Before the man can respond Harry drags me away, my heart races, thrilled at the prospect of what’s to come, Harry’s hand on my forearm is strong and rough and I know there will be bruises and I’m just a little bit wet at the prospect. He pushes us through the crowd which parts for him easily. When we’re out of the throng of people in the ballroom and out into the corridor he pulls me towards an alcove and I know what’s to come. “Gods, you look so divine in that outfit,” Harry growls and I want whatever he’s planning to do. He pulls me into the darkness, then lifts me off the ground and shoves me against the wall, pinning me there with his body and a touch of wandless magic. He hikes up my dress and unzips his pants and I’m so needy I’m panting. “Gonna fuck you so hard baby,” he growls.

“Yesssss,” I hiss, his cock enters me, and his lips trace my jaw, down my throat. There’s nothing like this feeling, Harry’s arm is right by my head as he pounds into me, unrelenting, furiously fucking me into oblivion, sucking love bites onto my neck, determined to show  _everyone_ who I belong to. I scream, and Harry chuckles, covering my mouth with his hand, my legs tremble, wrapping around Harry’s waist, keeping him deep inside me, moaning around his hand.

“So beautiful baby. Gods you are so perfect,” he growls, marking up my throat as he thrusts harder and faster into me. I can feel my orgasm building, but I am determined to hold off, I squeeze myself around him and Harry moans. “Fuck babe, so fucking good. Want you to come for me, love, want to feel you come all over my cock,” he growls in my ear and that’s all it takes. Throwing my head back, I moan loud, coming hard just as I’m told. It’s delicious and I never want it to end. “Such a good girl,” he purrs and Salazar if that doesn’t make me want to drop to my knees. He puts me down, and my legs are shaky at best as he kisses my lips, slowly, pulling out. He hasn’t come, and I’m a little confused. Then he whispers into my ear. “You had that look in your eye. No killing tonight princess.” I eye him, how did he… “Herbert Crawley let several Death Eaters off in the first war, don’t think I don’t know what you were up to pretending that you gave a shite what he was talking about.”

I pout, “But Harry.”

“Not tonight baby,” he says and though I’m annoyed, I won’t fight him. He’s the only one allowed to tell me what to do and who not to kill and so despite myself, I listen.

He takes my hand and we walk back into the ballroom as if nothing happened, and he kisses my cheek. “By the way love, just wait till we get home. I promise I’ll make your lack of playtime worth it.” I shudder at the promise in his words.

“Yes sir,” I wink and disappear into the crowd. Just because I can’t kill doesn’t mean I can’t play a little with my victim.


End file.
